


I Think the World Needs a Drink

by Cuzosu



Series: In-Laws from Hell [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Police, Discworld Reference, Don't Try This At Home, Drinking, M/M, Modern AU, Sparring, Tattoos, conversation about Obi-Wan's sex life or lack thereof, friends with benefits Quinlan and Obi-Wan, if they weren't friends and family this could be called combat, reference to accidental voyeurism, reference to being walked in on, this is not how you family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 00:01:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15206381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cuzosu/pseuds/Cuzosu
Summary: Meeting up for drinks with friends turns into another tattoo. Good thing the bar staff knows them here.





	I Think the World Needs a Drink

**Author's Note:**

> Title inadvertently taken from Terri Clark's song, but it fits so well I haven't the heart to change it. :P  
> I do not own either Star Wars or Discworld, although they're fun to play with.
> 
> This was originally Jynx's series only, but she's graciously allowed me to dabble. I run things past her before I post any of it, we've brainstormed like _hell_ on this massive thing, and our notes on this are a hundred pages at least. I'm not even sorry? She started the series because she tried to shove an idea my way and I grinned and was all, "Are you sure? Because you could do this with it?" And she went, "Oh, I could, and then I'd take this twist and make it even better and.... Damn it. I'm writing this, aren't I?" To which I grinned and volunteered to help.
> 
> Timeline-wise, this is before Mace approaches Obi-Wan about getting more info from Hondo again.

It was the first time in several months the whole group had been able to meet up for a night out. Obi-Wan had missed them. A lot. His family was great, except for their reluctance to let him have his own damn life, but these people here? They were on his side. He could relax.

Drink in hand, he did.

 

* * *

 

Several hours later, Garen was giggling at something Obi-Wan had missed, Reeft was playing with the table salt, Siri was flirting aggressively with someone at the table behind them, Bant was licking the rim of her glass obliviously, and Quinlan had a marker uncapped—the better to draw on people with.

“I tell you, these people had no appreciation of art!” Quin snarled, waving hands and marker about.

Obi-Wan leaned to one side; if Vos was going to use him as a canvas again, better it be on purpose. “It’s uncivilized,” agreed the redhead.

“Art is _naked_ ,” scoffed Siri, then leered. “All that bare skin….”

Reeft’s face flamed with embarrassment, which was probably the point. Or maybe Tachi was still flirting with someone behind them. Difficult to be sure….

“Well, naked is certainly art, but if you’re trying to tell Quin his tatts don’t count, I want out of the way before the fight escalates,” Garen drawled wryly.

“Hear, hear,” muttered Reeft, glaring at Siri.

Bant smiled but stayed out of it.

“Nah,” demurred Quinlan. “I wouldn’t turn it into a fight.”

“You’d just take the next opportunity to tattoo something embarrassing and permanent on her.” And no, that was not a guess. Not that it was generally Obi-Wan pissing Vos off, but he had a few tattoos he knew for a fact had been given to disturb his family when they walked in on things.

Vos had no shame. Sometimes that was even an endearing trait. Especially after Granddad’s expression the last time he didn’t knock.

Mischief clear in the sly grin on his face, Obi-Wan met Quin’s eyes and told his friends, “Sex is better with laughter, anyway. And I don’t usually laugh at art.”

Quinlan grinned back at him. “I won the bet that time, too.”

Obi-Wan huffed a laugh and stated, “The fact that you assholes bet on how and how far into things my dad or granddad walk in on things only proves your own sex lives are not exciting enough.”

Vos snickered. “That says sad things about the state of your love life, my friend; I’ve been the one with you when they walk in.”

“And the only one who stayed afterward,” admitted the redhead with a self-deprecating grin.

There was a moment of silence.

“Aw, hell, Obi. What kind of too shy jerks are you taking home?” Siri demanded.

Bant patted his arm sympathetically. “They obviously weren’t worth your time, Obi.”

“This calls for new tattoos,” declared Quinlan, and started examining Obi-Wan for stretches of skin that would suit whatever design he had in mind.

It was probably a good thing they were known in this bar, because otherwise, Vos shoving Kenobi’s shirt up might have gotten them evicted.

“What the hell?!” exclaimed a mostly sober man walking past.

“He needs a tramp stamp,” muttered Quinlan around the marker cap held in his mouth. The stranger graced him with a disturbed look and fled.

Siri doubled over with laughter. “A tramp stamp. Mister I-can’t-get-laid-because-my-family-is-too-nosy needs a tramp stamp?”

“I think the world of his ass,” Quin retorted. “He should know it and it should be advertised to everyone he cares to let see that much of him, okay? Without obstructing the view.” And he squinted and shoved Obi-Wan bodily up onto the table for better angle and lighting.

Garen grinned. “You’re going to chase off so many people with this, you know.”

“If they won’t fight for him, they don’t deserve him.” Quinlan might not be good at relationships, but Obi-Wan was the glue that bound their group of friends together. It was only fair they looked out for him, too.

Reeft exchanged a look with Obi-Wan. “They’d gang up on me if I tried to stop them,” he apologized. “When you find someone to marry, I will cater for you.” His look stated that none of their friends would get alcohol on his watch, although Quin and Siri were sneaky enough that wasn’t a guarantee.

Obi-Wan felt the press and drag of marker against his back and knew Quinlan had chosen a design. If he was lucky, he’d get something amusing and honest; if he wasn’t, it would be embarrassing as hell and show through any light colored shirt, even without being soaked to the skin.

Bending over, Bant watched the tattoo-to-be unfold—and grinned. “Yes,” she agreed. “Yes, that fits him well.”

Vos grinned, capped the marker and leaned back with a satisfied air. “If someone wants to help me pin him down, I’ll ink it tomorrow.”

Interest fully caught, the rest of the group shifted about for a better view. Obi-Wan sighed, resigned, still sprawled on the table.

“…damn, he _does_ rate the good ones from you, Vos,” Garen admired. “Sure, I’ll help. Bant and I aren’t on shift again until the next morning anyway; boss gave us a few days off because apparently someone,” he eyed Siri wryly, “who teaches his kids self defense hasn’t been sleeping well and we're supposed to fix that.”

Siri punched him. “Shut up, Gar; I could have asked someone else to help.” And then, without letting him respond, she told Quinlan, “I’ll be there, too. I want to see this inked in.”

Well, maybe it would be less embarrassing than Quin’s other ridiculous choices? But then again, it _was_ Quinlan Vos….

Reeft snorted and patted his friend’s shoulder as Obi-Wan regained his seat, snagged a shot and downed it. “It’s not that bad. I mean, _we_ know it has perverted meaning, but if you don’t tell someone else about the reasons behind it, no one else is likely to figure it out unless they want to see you naked, too.”

Fresh from an undercover op involving Hondo and blatant lechery, that was not as reassuring as Reeft meant it to be.

“They’d have to be familiar with Terry Pratchett’s _Discworld_ series, anyway,” Quinlan smirked.

Discworld. Thinking the world of his ass. Obi-Wan’s head thunked down on the table as he put it together. “You’re giving me a tramp stamp of A’Tuin, the world turtle?”

Vos bared teeth in a grin full of challenge. “Elephants and Disc and all,” he confirmed.

The worst part was that Obi-Wan liked Sir Terry’s work too much to find a valid protest.

 

* * *

 

Inking in a tattoo was a painful process, but the result? Obi-Wan stared at the picture Siri had just taken and sighed. “I can’t even be mad about this one.” It was too beautiful, and with layered meanings…. No, he wasn’t going to hold a grudge. Although he was sure the bar wouldn’t appreciate their custom for awhile. Good thing they didn’t manage bar nights often.

Garen grinned. “You realize Quin’s going to take every chance he can to pull your shirt up and ogle that tatt now, right?”

“Rather see his ass,” Quinlan retorted, “but that’s indecent exposure and I don’t like facing charges when I haven’t done enough to deserve them.”

“In other words,” Siri smirked, “you intend to someday be caught fucking and get an indecent exposure charge for it?”

“It’s a thought.”

Obi-Wan sighed again…and smiled. “Commissioner Windu wouldn’t help you with that, you know.”

“Yeah,” Quin agreed sadly. “Not the right kind of undercover.”

“Not actually under covers at all, if you get an indecent exposure charge.”

Vos sniffed disdainfully. “Obi, I love you and your spectacular ass, but you are a major buzz kill sometimes.”

Garen patted Obi-Wan sympathetically. “Ignore him; I know you’re still drunk.”

There was a moment of silence, then Quin and Siri looked at Kenobi. “How the fuck are you still drunk?”

“He bought a bottle to take home last night when he was squaring up,” Muln laughed. “I saw it when I picked him up and it was empty. He threw it at his grandpa and the old man just knocked it aside and said he was taking Obi back to the mats when he returned. Guess who thinks he hasn’t had enough to drink now?”

Siri laughed loudest. “No wonder he fights so well. He keeps making Serenno think he’s forgotten combat!”

For his part, Vos leered at Obi-Wan. “Wanna fuck and make him think you’re even more out of practice?”

_…bad ideas should not be that appealing, damn it._

**Author's Note:**

> Quinlan being a tattoo artist is my fault, but it fit so well I have no regrets. We've also got other bits and pieces in the works right now, although there are other fics competing for attention and writing time, too. But it's been awhile since any of this got updated and we got to talking about In-Laws because my muse jumped back to a fight scene and, uh, kind of got my thoughts back here for now.


End file.
